Not Your Bet to Make Chapter 02

Not Your Bet to Make Chapter 02

The backyard barbecue was half dead when the boy I grew up with asked me:

“College apps close tomorrow. You still haven’t noticed yours got changed?”

I blinked at him. No idea what he was talking about.

Tiffany snorted.

“Asher and I made a bet. We wanted to see how long it’d take you to notice we swapped your Stanford app to UCLA.”

“But you’re so damn slow you still haven’t caught it.”

“Hurry up and change it back. Otherwise you and Asher are doing long-distance.”

I stared at the burnt chicken wing in my hand. Suddenly it all felt so pointless. I tossed it.

Tiffany and Asher ran the school. They traded the number-one spot back and forth like a game of catch.

I clawed my way to fiftieth.

They offered to tutor me together. Boost my ranking.

Neither of them could stand losing to the other.

“Asher, you suck at teaching. Grace looks completely lost. I bet she won’t even crack the top fifty this time.”

“I bet she breaks top thirty. Loser buys lunch for a month.”

Somewhere along the way my tutoring sessions turned into their debate club.

I absorbed nothing. Dropped to one hundredth.

We planned a graduation trip. I overheard them betting again.

“I canceled Grace’s ticket. I bet she still hasn’t noticed.” Tiffany sounded so sure of herself.

“If she has, you write my essays for a month.”

I had to buy my own ticket. Watched them board the same flight.

Now they’d moved the bets to my college application.

I wasn’t changing it back.

UCLA. Fine. As long as it was far away from them.

***

“Neither of us guessed the exact date Grace would find out, but I came closer.”

Tiffany patted Asher’s shoulder. Smug.

“So you still lose. Two months. My personal servant.”

“Servant boy. Peel me a shrimp.”

Asher gritted his teeth.

“The rules clearly said exact date. You’re cheating.”

“But a gentleman doesn’t argue with a lady. I’ll let it slide.”

His face screamed no. His hands said yes. He shelled it clean. Held it to her mouth.

He turned to me.

“I’m just honoring the bet. Don’t read into it.”

“You want shrimp? I can peel you one too.”

Asher hated rule-breakers. No exceptions. Ever.

Before the SATs he set me a schedule. Two hours of tutoring. Every day.

Once I had cramps so bad I couldn’t get out of bed. I asked for ten minutes.

His face went cold.

“Don’t fold the second things get hard. How are you supposed to apply to the same school as me?”

“Suck it up. Or I’m done teaching you.”

I cried over that for weeks. Thought he didn’t care about me at all.

Now I was watching him break every rule for Tiffany.

I gripped the skewer. Nails bit into my palm. The sting snapped me back. I shook my head.

“No thanks. I don’t like shrimp.”

“But you used to love shrimp. Why don’t you—”

“Tiffany’s the one who loves shrimp.” I cut him off.

Two seconds of silence.

Asher’s mouth opened. Closed. Nothing came out.

After the food, Tiffany suggested a walk by the lake.

Midway I crouched to tie my shoelace.

When I looked up, Asher and Tiffany were thirty feet ahead.

Laughing. Neither of them looked back.

I watched their backs. Took a slow breath. That feeling of being invisible—it suffocated more than any fight ever could.

My mind has always wandered. Hard to focus on anything.

Walking too. I lagged behind everyone else.

Asher used to slow down for me. Glance back. Check I was still there.

Sometimes when my laces came undone he’d kneel and tie them himself.

People called me his shadow. He’d always push back:

“Grace isn’t a shadow. She just notices things. Her attention gets pulled somewhere else.”

Somewhere along the way, whenever he and Tiffany got together, they’d bicker endlessly.

Engrossed enough to forget me entirely.

Watching their backs pull farther away, for the first time I didn’t follow.

I pulled out my phone. Opened the iMessage group chat.

Asher made it for tutoring. After graduation my account glitched and I got locked out.

Three days ago it finally came back.

They hadn’t kicked me out. They hadn’t added my new number either.

Three days. I watched them message from morning to night.

Sniping at each other. Something felt off.

Ten minutes ago Tiffany sent a message in the group.

“Let’s pretend we left Grace behind. Nobody answer her texts. Let’s see if she cries.”

“No. She’s scared of walking alone at night. We can’t ditch her.” Asher refused.

Tiffany snapped: “You’re my servant right now. Do what I say.”

Asher replied with dots. Nothing else. No more objections.

I stared at the screen. Fingers hovering.

Then I typed. Sent. Yanked it back.

“I know. Enjoy your game.”

Done. I shut off my phone. Opened Uber.

While the car came I searched the highest-rated Italian spot nearby. Ate a full dinner by myself. Snapped a photo. Posted it to my Instagram Story. Caption: “Solo dates are the best dates.”

Starting today, I make the rules.